Pinwheel of Death

Al Stewart


SONGS

TERRITORIAL RESTRICTIONS
MAY APPLY TO THIS TITLE.

Writers Alastair Stewart, Peter Wood

Genres Classic Rock, Pop

Recorded 1977

Lyrics ON A MORNING
IN A BOGART MOVIE,
IN A COUNTRY
WHERE THEY TURN BACK TIME,
YOU GO STROLLING
THROUGH THE CROWD
LIKE PETER LORRE
CONTEMPLATING A CRIME.
SHE COMES OUT
OF THE SUN
IN A SILK DRESS
RUNNING
LIKE A WATERCOLOR
IN THE RAIN,
DON'T BOTHER ASKING
FOR EXPLANATIONS,
SHE'LL JUST TELL YOU
THAT SHE CAME
IN THE YEAR OF THE CAT.

SHE DOESN'T GIVE YOU TIME
FOR QUESTIONS
AS SHE LOCKS UP
YOUR ARM IN HERS,
AND YOU FOLLOW
'TILL YOUR SENSE
OF WHICH DIRECTION
COMPLETELY DISAPPEARS.
BY THE BLUE TILED WALLS
NEAR THE MARKET STALLS,
THERE'S A HIDDEN DOOR
SHE LEADS YOU TO.
THESE DAYS,
SHE SAYS,
I FEEL MY LIFE
JUST LIKE A RIVER
RUNNING THROUGH
THE YEAR OF THE CAT.

WELL,
SHE LOOKS AT YOU
SO COOLY
AND HER EYES SHINE
LIKE THE MOON
IN THE SEA,
SHE COMES
IN INCENSE
AND PATCHOULI,
SO YOU TAKE HER,
TO FIND
WHAT'S WAITING INSIDE
THE YEAR OF THE CAT.

WELL, MORNING COMES
AND YOU'RE STILL
WITH HER
AND THE BUS
AND THE TOURISTS
ARE GONE,
AND YOU'VE THROWN AWAY
THE CHOICE
AND LOST YOUR TICKET
SO YOU HAVE TO
STAY ON.
BUT THE DRUM-BEAT
STRAINS
OF THE NIGHT REMAIN
IN THE RHYTHM
OF THE NEW-BORN DAY,
YOU KNOW SOMETIME
YOU'RE BOUND
TO LEAVE HER,
BUT FOR NOW
YOU'RE GOING TO STAY
IN THE YEAR OF THE CAT.